


Halloween's Mess

by BustedChina



Series: Overlooked Children [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Gen, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Slytherin Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 22:35:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10908837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BustedChina/pseuds/BustedChina
Summary: Forget about the curse on the Defense Position. Everyone know's the real problems occur on Halloween. First there's the incident at the Potter's, now there's this.This time, our four favorite misfits are dealing with their own batch of "Halloween fun". And with a troll loose in the castle, hopefully they each make it out alright.Afterall, there's always the issue of having too much fun.





	Halloween's Mess

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: As we follow along with Canon, Hermione Grange has spent the day crying in the Girl’s bathroom due to what Ronald Weasley- her year mate- has just said of her. The others are enjoying a Halloween feast when Professor Quirell swarms the Great Hall frantically rattling off the story of the Troll in the Dungeons! Before fainting in a heap. Dumbledore has dismissed the students- guided by the Prefects- to their houses, and the Teachers to the Dungeons to confront the Troll. 
> 
> And now our story begins, just a hint before the Professor swarms the hall with shouts of a deadly troll, with our four favorite forgotten children. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> By the way, I don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling gets all the credit in that field. I'm just borrowing some of her characters and playing with them a bit. So please don't yell at me.

Granger has been crying. Her face swelled up, red eyes and a runny nose. She hates it. Hates it! She doesn’t mean to be a Know-it-all. She doesn’t mean to. She promises…

Its primary school all over again: the teasing, the disappointed faces from her teachers; everyone wants her to change, but she just doesn’t know how! She’d change in a heartbeat if someone would just tell her how.

She thought that the magical world would be different. She can’t be the only Muggleborn who wants to learn. Why can’t the others just see that!

Granger continues to cry; huddled in her stall, choking on sobs as she cries out her frustrations to silent ears.

 

 

Nott is confused. He hasn’t seen Granger all day. She hasn’t been to the library or chattering to Professor Flitwick about yesterday’s assignment. It’s not until the feast is well into swing that he hears Malfoy bragging about “the pathetic Mudblood crying in the girl’s bathroom”.

He’s about to tear into Malfoy’s use of the ‘M-word’ before Flint catches his eye and he freezes. He knows that look. He’d know it anywhere. The hungry leer and promise of pain.

An itchy sensation trickles down his spine.

Of course. How could he have forgotten? Today is the day the Dark Lord was defeated. Besides Christmas, his most feared day.

Halloween. The day that his brother- Theonel- would be at school and he’d be alone in the house with his Father, drunk and irritated; needing to take his frustration out on his seven year old son, since his wife is dead. “The Bitch,” he’d slur, pinning Theo to the ground as he works on his belt, “leaving me, the little whore. –Look just like her. Need to learn your place”. And Theo would scream. Scream till his throat was raw and sore. Till he thought it’d never work again.

Halloween. His most feared day.

Theo’s not confused. He’s scared, terrified; screaming inside with his raw and sore throat, but just as before no one is around to hear. Staring at his plate- eyes glazed- no longer eating, silently pleading for someone, anyone, Hermione! To hear him.

 

 

Longbottom is distressed. He’s worrying his lower lip- a trait he’s picked up from Harry- bemoaning his luck. He’s worried what Harry might think.

He didn’t mean to abandon him! He’d been trying to leave the library and sneak away to the Owlery, but he’d been caught up in the stream of students, ushered into the Great Hall. He’d been pinned between Seamus and Dean, unable to ramble his way through an excuse to use the bathroom, certain that they’d catch him in his lie.

And today’s Halloween! The day his parent’s died, and all Neville can think about is how he’s abandoned him just as everyone else has done.

Neville’s worried and miserable and aching inside at what his best friend- his only friend- is thinking about. He’s praying to Merlin, to- what does Harry call it …God? - To anyone who might hear him that he didn’t mean it! He never meant to abandon Harry. It’s all just an accident, a misunderstanding. And he promises to every being out there, that he’ll make it up, it’ll never happen again!

 

 

Potter is trembling. He’s been long since trapped in a memory, curled up on the floor of the Owlery.

A memory of past Halloweens, where normal children would dress as cops, robbers, dragons, and wizards. A memory where his cousin, Dudley, would kick at his stomach and hide candy wrappers in his cupboard, only to laugh at the resulting beating Harry would receive for “stealing my precious Dudders candy”. Dudley would taunt Harry with a, “just wait till Dad comes home,” or a “nothing for the little Freak”, or his favorite- to remind Harry that he should’ve died with his parents.

A memory of past Halloweens, where the word “magic” would result in a broken arm and his cupboard would be his cage whilst the other children, the _normal_ children would be celebrating with their families.

A long-passed memory of a six year old Harry sporting a burn –where his Aunt Petunia had held his hand over the flame for burning their breakfast-, his mind replaying her cruel words, “Ungrateful Freak, it’s no wonder your parents abandoned you! Who’d love a little Freak like you?” But now the memory is accompanied with the phantom pain of Uncle Vernon’s belt across his shoulders and Voldemort’s hysterical laughter and flashes of green light.

Harry is trembling. A shaky, hyperventilating mess of limbs and raven curls, as he struggles within his memories, green eyes shiny with tears- the most expression they’ve held all term.

But he’s alone. There’s no one- ‘cept for the owls- around to see that rarity. And he’s silent; trapped in his nightmares on the stone floor, until blackness creeps up and swallows the child; now unresponsive and still on the cold floor.


End file.
